


You Are A Different Story

by Alitomy



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Bi!Booker, Booker uses sex as a coping mechanism instead of alcohol, M/M, Multi, OT3 by the end, author is bi therefore booker is bi, booker honestly still needs therapy in this but at least hes not fucken plastered all the time, he deals with twinks that have daddy issues, no smut bc writing smut makes me kinda uncomfortable?, so ill write pre-smut instead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:14:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25823452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alitomy/pseuds/Alitomy
Summary: Booker uses sex as a coping mechanism instead of alcohol, putting him at risk of attracting unwanted attention to the group.
Relationships: Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolo di Genova
Comments: 5
Kudos: 184





	You Are A Different Story

One hundred years alone, they said. 

We’ll meet you here in one hundred years, no sooner, no later, they said. 

_’Fuck that,’_ Booker thought as he scanned the dancefloor, skulling his shot. _’I’m going to make the most of this.’_

He definitely looked too old to be in any sort of club in this day and age, and he knew it. He was surrounded by people in their twenties, maybe early thirties. Asides from who he thought must be the owner of this establishment ( _an older gentleman sitting on a throne with scandily clad, young women surrounding him and feeding him grapes and sips of alcohol_ ), Booker was probably the oldest attendee. 

Music thumping through his body, he stayed by the bar and looked up at the bartender as a drink was placed in front of him. “Courtesy of the dude in the corner.” 

Booker picked up the glass and averted his eyes to the corner, where a rather young man was grinning towards him with an eyebrow raised. Lifting his glass up as a token of thanks, Booker quickly drank the whole thing. He knew where this was going to go, and though he didn’t want to be the subject of some young twinks ‘daddy issues’ they were hoping to solve by seducing him, he’d much rather be on the verge of drunk than completely sober. 

Besides, all sense of shame went out the window decades ago. People have sex with huge age gaps all the time, but with Booker, they didn’t know just how wide that gap was. 

So Booker took the young lad home with him. He listened to him rant about his personal life that Booker _did not care about_ and was going to forget come morning, only wanting to fuck the man senseless to fulfill his fantasy and then leave. They walked back to the young man’s apartment on Booker’s request, not wanting to deal with a clingy morning cuddler when he woke up with nowhere to go. He had learned from past mistakes. 

“I just want to forget, for one night, you know? Papa was never around, never helped Mama with us,” he was speaking in French, though Booker was only half listening and he leaned against the wall as his date for the night opening the door to his apartment. Pulling Booker inside and pushing the door shut, the man stood in front of him with his hands on his hips, eyeing Booker up and down. “Will you help me forget?” 

Booker’s lips curved slightly and placed his hands on the man’s hips, pulling him in so their hips were touching. He leant down and grazed his lips under the man’s ear, and travelled down his neck, placing solid, wet kisses along the vein. 

“I’ll do whatever you want me to do.” 

~

Leaving in the morning proved challenging. He did, in fact, bed a cuddler, much to his dismay. 

“Stay, for breakfast at least,” the young voice spoke quietly, squeezing Booker’s middle tighter. Booker closed his eyes. This is exactly what he didn’t want to happen. Exhaling heavily, he ran his hand through his date’s soft blonde hair, twisting it between his fingers gently.

“Alexandre,” he sighed and went to sit up, removing the man from his chest. “I really should get going.” 

“Please?” Alexandre whispered, looking down at his hands that were making sure he stayed covered. 

Booker leant over and slotted their lips together softly, cupping the young man’s jaw. “This was fun. Maybe we shall find each other in another lifetime.” 

Slipping out of the bed and pulling on his clothes, Booker gathered the rest of his things before leaving the apartment, gently closing the door behind him. That’s all this was to him. Fun. He can’t afford to let himself get attached to anyone anymore, they only seemed to hurt him in the end. 

Harmless fun he can deal with.

~

He moves around a lot. At first, he stays in France simply for the familiarity of it all, but then he travels. Booker rarely spends a night alone like his exile asked of him, but not really. 

He was only supposed to be alone in the context of the team. And he was. He missed them and wanted so badly to go back to them. 

But he wasn’t going to let them dictate how he spent his one hundred years. And to be honest, he was having fun. Finding other people who didn’t want to commit to anything other than a one night stand was _wonderful_. Though after Alexandre, he tended to find people a bit older to spend his nights with, not wanting a repeat of that whole morning-after scene. 

He had men just as often as he had women, giving and taking if the other person required it of him. It wasn’t new to him to be in this position, he had over two hundred years to get used to the idea of having men and women in a sexual way. 

Booker slipped into his apartment in Malta, thoroughly fucked out as he opened his fridge for a refreshment. Taking out a bottle of water, he drank half before he closed the fridge and turned around, jumping in surprise and spilling the rest of his water all down his front. 

“What are you guys doing here?” He said in shock, dropping the now empty water bottle on the ground. “When did you get in?” 

“We’ve been here for a few weeks. We were hoping to catch you sooner but it looks like you’ve been busy,” Nicky smirked, his arms sat crossed over his chest. “You’ve been enjoying yourself.” 

“A little too much,” Joe spoke up, thumbing the handle of his coffee mug. “You’ve been very easy to hunt down.” 

Running a hand down his face to rid it of water, Booker barely suppressed a grin. “You clearly know what I’ve been up to lately. Though I doubt that’s why you’ve graced me with your presence this fine evening.”

“Booker, you need to stay hidden. You can’t be out in public areas so openly anymore, we’ll have another Merrick situation on our hands if you do,” Joe huffed. “We don’t want to have to rescue your ass from a lab.” 

Booker scoffed and turned towards his liquor cabinet, which hadn’t been touched in a couple of weeks. He felt kind of proud of himself before he shook the feeling off and pulled out a bottle of fancy scotch. “As if you’d come for me.” 

“We would,” Nicky insists. “Just because we sent you away doesn’t mean we wouldn’t come after you if you got into trouble.” 

“Am I in trouble?” Booker filled a glass and turned back around to stare at the pair. When he receives no answer, he repeats himself. “Am I in trouble?” 

“No. But Copley says you’re being too active and not careful enough, and Andy agrees.” 

“Fuck them,” Booker grumbles into his drink. He couldn’t believe the team would forgive Copley and exile him for _a hundred fucking years_. “Fuck you all.” 

“Booker-” Nicky started, walking closer to him with Joe not far behind. 

“Save it, Nic. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit anymore. I got what, ninety-eight years left? You can’t even abide by your own rules,” Booker snapped. Turning, he placed his glass onto the counter rather harshly before leaning his hands on the edge, closing his eyes in an attempt to regain his emotions. Seeing them again this soon just reopened all the wounds he had tried so desperately to cover up, to hide from view. 

Shaking his head, he reached for the bottle of alcohol once more, pouring himself a heavy glass. When he moved to drink it, a hand was placed on his forearm and slowly brought it back down to the counter, before the same hand removed the glass from his grip. 

“No more, Booker,” Nicky said quietly. Booker turned to look at him and found a fire in his eyes that was usually only directed at Joe. “Drown yourself in other matters.” 

“Like what? You came all this way to stop me ‘hooking up’ with people, and now you don’t want me to drink? Get off your high horse, Nic, some of us have unhealthy outlets that we need to cope,” Booker removed his arm from Nicky’s grip and stepped back, only to bump into Joe’s chest. He tensed as he felt arms slither around his waist and hold him firmly against the wall that was Joe. 

“Right, I agree. But what if you got rid of those.. unhealthy habits and found something new? Something that won’t hurt anyone and will keep you away from popular nightclubs with lots of cameras?” Nicky was close now. Booker could feel his hot breath on his face and his hands slide their way onto his cheeks. 

Booker’s heart, and mind, were racing. _‘What the fuck is going on?’_ He thought as he felt two pairs of hands roam his body, cold fingers sending shivers up his spine as they found themselves under his clothes. 

“If this is just a one-time thing, I don’t think I can do this.” 

“Why not? You did for all the others.” Joe’s husky voice gave Booker goosebumps as he tried to focus on his next words. 

“They meant nothing to me. You are a different story,” he said as he licked his lips, glancing down at Nicky’s. Hands continued to roam his body, and soon his clothes were being pulled from him, one item at a time. 

“How so?” 

“You-” Booker paused as Nicky pressed light kisses down his chest, stopping just above the waistband of his jeans. “You both mean so much to me.” 

The sound of his zipper being undone was all the warning he had before his brain went to mush at the attention he was receiving. 

And he let himself receive everything they were willing to give him.

**Author's Note:**

> this was not meant to end up as OT3 but fuck it, this is what happens when you write with absolutely no plan xD 
> 
> follow me on tumblr: alit0my


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